Friday, 12 February 2010


Every day I get older.

I'm finding that being 21 is particularly difficult. Not only do I have an inexplicable obsession with reminiscing these days, but also an unavoidable and unmanageable tendency to dwell on every decision knowing that each step I take is leading to another, another, another. Leaps of faith are a regular occurrence that I just don't feel comfortable making. Sleep is lacking on all accounts and afternoon naps of first year are a thing of the past (see, reminiscing again...)

Of course, one could argue that every minute detail you decide upon in your life has its respectful consequence, one biscuit or two pour example (i'm talking packets here, these are tough times), but I do know that my mind is not ready to decide upon an answer for that ominous question that seems to be on everyone's bloody lips at the moment - What are you going to do with your life?

Ok, so HOLD UP... let's break it down:

What-are-you : a third year student, currently juggling a million and one deadlines whilst trying to rid myself of the straitjacket that's conveniently wrapped itself around me and the lamppost in the centre of the high street down in Antisocialville; population 1 + sketchbook, camera, laptop and ever-prevalent backache, headed for graduation 2010.

going-to : I'm going nowhere, unless it's the library.

with : ...Myself.

your-life: In this context I guess it means your life of the future.. which I think is ridiculous on many levels. Mystic Meg, anyone remember her? She was involved with all that future, predicting malark and look how far that got her. Let's deal with the life of now - sitting, breathing, being.

? : This is a wiggly line and a dot which concludes this silly,wiggly question quite appropriately.

Recently, my answer to this question has been- I ain't got a clueeeeeeee! And this is a lie... big pants on fire liar, right? WRONG. I don't have a clue... does anyone have a clue? What about letter it might begin with? Sigh. I'm dealing with technicalities here, nobody would have a clue would they... this isn't eye spy. I hate that game, who invented that game!? It is not a game, there are no winners = no point of it existing.

A-ha! Winning. Now that's a topic I can relate to and it may even be relevant to this little blog right here.. mabes.. Ok, so I like winning; in my life, I want to win. There we go, that's what i'll reply to the next person who asks me WAYGTDWYL.

Mmm, perhaps not. This isn't a game of Monopoly where I insist on being banker and slip myself an extra 400 each time I pass GO...and Go To Jail.

Perhaps the only option is to run away. Run run far away and in the opposite direction to the way the globe spins, reducing time to a meaningless nothingness that can not affect me as I reverse the inevitabilities of growing old and avoid all the decisions I would've had to once face.

But where to run to!?

UGH, maybe it is too late for my mind to be wandering. But I know as soon as I save this up there'll be no shutting it up 'til early morn as I try to digest the day's events. I'm meant to be having a few days off but I knew that wasn't going to happen. I'll continue in the morning where i'll be bright as a button, shiny (oily) and about4 dress sizes larger than I was today after a hefty binge of vegetable pasties, Thorntons chocolate, organic flapjack, custard from the tin, Co-op walnut cake, pasta bake, Weight Watchers yoghurt (it was on offer), 2 p-p-p-p-penguins and a homemade caramel shortbread...

I guess my mind won't be the only one having trouble digesting.